Woman at the Vanguard

By

Will Friedwald

Jan. 2, 2013 4:42 p.m. ET

New York

The first time Lorraine Gordon entered the Village Vanguard, in the late 1930s, she was nearly thrown out. It's not that she was behaving improperly; she was just too young to be legally allowed into a bar. The first words she ever heard uttered by her future husband of 40 years, Max Gordon, were "Get rid of those kids!"—meaning her and her brother. No one could have known then that, less than 15 years later, she would become an integral part of the Vanguard's history when she married Gordon, or that, in 1989, she would take over the club herself and keep it running to this day. Another major event no one could have foreseen 75 years ago: On the eve of her 90th birthday, Ms. Gordon would receive word that she is to become the first woman to receive the NEA Jazz Masters Award for Jazz Advocacy.

ENLARGE

Lorraine Gordon will be the first woman to receive the NEA Jazz Masters Award for Jazz Advocacy.
Ken Fallin

A Tuesday afternoon at the Village Vanguard is a funny time to be talking about the past—despite being filled with pictures of jazz greats who played and recorded there in the 1950s and '60s (Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bill Evans,Sonny Rollins), the club is thoroughly steeped in the present. Ms. Gordon is trying to talk in spite of persistent interruptions: delivery men requiring her to sign this or that; the piano tuner trying to work while the interview is proceeding; veteran drummer Andrew Cyrille needing help to get his trap kit down the stairs; and tenor saxophonist Bill McHenry getting ready for his soundcheck.

Ms. Gordon, née Stein, was born in Newark, N.J., on Oct. 15, 1922, and has been a devoted jazz fan and a tireless advocate of the music her entire life. She and her brother Philip began listening to and collecting jazz records partly because they weren't allowed into the clubs where the music was played. Around 1935, the same year that Max Gordon opened the Vanguard, young Lorraine, inspired by developments in Paris, formed a loose collective of fans she named "The Hot Club of Newark." When not pursuing the music, she was studying visual arts. (Ten years or so later, she worked as an artist's model, but she concedes that her career in that area was limited because she was too modest to pose completely nude.)

Ms. Gordon fidgets with her hearing aid—ultimately she removes it, announcing she hears better without it—and recalls that one of the first occasions she was legally allowed to hear a set all the way through was when she was 17 and Leadbelly was performing. "Oh my, I was so crazy about Leadbelly. I sat right back there," she says, indicating a table near the back of the room, "and Leadbelly came and sat with me. I wanted to draw him. My God. That fantastic head, that face, that white hair, those cheekbones. At that time I was trying to be an artist. I had art ambitions because I could draw. I sat there at that table with him; I probably just stared at him."

Music was always part of her personal as well as professional life: Both of her husbands were major jazz advocates. In 1942, she married Alfred Lion, the German refugee who was already the founder of Blue Note Records, which became the most important of all jazz labels. It was while she was trying to round up gigs for Blue Note artist Thelonious Monk, who was then regarded as an uncommercial, avant-garde pianist who had a hard time finding work, that Lorraine became reacquainted with the Vanguard's Max Gordon. The first engagement by Monk at the Vanguard was a near disaster—no one was there ("You trying to ruin my business? We're dying with this guy!" Gordon bellowed). But Lorraine's relationship with Max blossomed. After her divorce from Lion, she married Gordon in 1950 and their daughter Rebecca was born later that year; their daughter Deborah, in 1952.

In the beginning, the Vanguard featured a wide variety of acts: folk and blues singers, poets and comedians, as well as jazz. From 1943 to 1964, the Gordons also ran The Blue Angel, a club primarily for singers. By 1955, the Vanguard had shifted to an all-jazz policy; it's still the oldest continuously operated jazz club in the world. Ms. Gordon spent much of the 1960s as an antiwar activist: She was protesting involvement in Vietnam well before most Americans had even heard of Vietnam.

When Max Gordon died in 1989, many assumed the Vanguard would shut down, but Ms. Gordon closed it for exactly one day in his memory, which she has continued to honor by maintaining the Vanguard's status as one of the top jazz venues in the world. She admits that the music has changed in the 75-plus years that she's been listening, and she feels that's a good thing: "Everything changes. Look at me, look at you. Of course it changes—it's a growing art form. Anything that's artistic and pure will change. Otherwise it's a static thing that you don't care about. What's new is the name of the game; if it comes out of the musical ability of artists who play and compose, then it's a valid art form." But Ms. Gordon does insist on some traditional values. "I encourage everyone who plays here to include at least one standard or ballad in every set—I say, no one's going out the door humming that original you wrote 10 minutes ago."

In the past 23 years, the Vanguard has steadily featured regular acts, like pianists Bill Charlap and Fred Hersch, whom longtime patrons expect to see. But Ms. Gordon is also willing to take a chance on new talent she has faith in, like Fabian Almazan, the 27-year-old Cuban keyboardist and refugee who made his leader debut at the Vanguard in 2011. "Look, I have to keep finding new talent," she says, "but I'm not the only club in town. Sometimes I say, 'Go play somewhere else, let them break you in. I'll keep listening, and, when I hear that you're ready, you can come here.'"

In 2005, Ms. Gordon published her memoir, "Alive at the Village Vanguard" (written with Barry Singer). She says that the NEA award was totally unexpected. "It was completely out of the blue. They called me here at the club. A very nice man's voice asked for me. I said, 'Yes, this is she,' and he said, 'This is National Endowment for the Arts.' The first thing I said was, 'Well, how much money do you want?' He laughed, he told me about the award; I couldn't quite grasp it, I asked 'Why?' I was stunned—and still am."

Does she have any thoughts about the award and the ceremony, which will be held at Jazz at Lincoln Center on Jan. 14? "Yes, I do. What am I going to wear?"

This copy is for your personal, non-commercial use only. Distribution and use of this material are governed by our Subscriber Agreement and by copyright law. For non-personal use or to order multiple copies, please contact Dow Jones Reprints at 1-800-843-0008 or visit www.djreprints.com.